


Choosing Lonely

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:50:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9956033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: A post ep for 2Shy written for a Tumblr challenge.





	

Scully was fine. She was always fine. She’d done her job, applied her considerable training. She’d fought. The perp was dead. The last victim would probably never be the same again but she would live.  
He followed her to the car. She moved with the deliberation she reserved for their tougher cases.   
“Scully? Are you sure you don’t want me to come back with you?”  
“I’m fine, Mulder. I’m just tired.”  
He nodded, holding her gaze a moment longer than was comfortable for her. She cast her eyes to the car, flexing her jaw. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”  
“Goodnight, Mulder.”  
He watched her leave, the tail-lights blurring in the smeary rain.

He lay on his couch, closed his eyes, letting the green illumination from the fish tank play behind his lids. The women were single, intelligent, lonely. They’d trusted their fates to a man who became their very ideal, hidden behind a screen, someone who fed their anxieties, who told them exactly what they wanted to hear. Incanto had wormed his way under their skin. Message by message, compliment by compliment. Building them up, inflating their confidence. Anonymously. Fatally.   
He shifted on to his side, dangling his hand to the floor. His fingers brushed the edge of the rug. He wondered about the young witness, the blind girl whose mother had been murdered. Her world was now even darker than before. He swallowed at the thought. 

He waited at the door for long enough to turn around, take a few steps back down the passageway, berating himself for his insensitivity. But he turned back again anyway. He always did.  
She drew back the door after the second quiet knock. “What’s wrong, Mulder?”  
“Nothing,” he said, brushing past her. He noted the way her hair was still fairly sleek, framing her face. She hadn’t slept yet, despite her puffy eyes. “I couldn’t sleep either.”  
“I was just making a hot drink. Would you like some?”  
He nodded. “Thanks.” He followed her to the kitchen, so neat and clean, everything in a drawer or cupboard where it made sense, everything labelled and within its use by date. “Scully, do you always open the door at 2am on a weekday?”  
She turned her quirked eyebrow to him. “Only for you, Mulder.”  
“What if it wasn’t me?”  
Pouring hot milk in a white mug, she stirred the powdered chocolate with precision. “You have a particular knock, Mulder. What’s this about?”  
He took the mug and followed her to her couch. Its cool, familiar welcome was a comfort.   
“Those women that Incanto murdered. They were so trusting of him, of his motivations.”   
“And you think that a fat-sucking mutant will knock at my door one night and I’ll just let him in? Mulder, I’m a trained FBI agent. I have a weapon. I’ve already beaten off more mutants than I care to name. Believe me, I’m always prepared.” She sipped her drink and held his gaze over the rim of her mug.  
“I’m sorry, Scully. I didn’t mean to imply that you were going to put yourself in danger. I just wondered about the frame of mind of those women. They were independent, single women. But they were lonely.”  
She put her mug down and breathed out. She leant forward. The beauty mark she covered up was visible above her lip. Her freckles made her look so young. Her hair was looser. “Are you asking me if I’m lonely?”  
He looked up, memorizing the intricate pattern of the ceiling rose above the light. “Sometimes, I wonder if we’re letting ourselves drift away, if we’re unconsciously seeking isolation, if The X-Files are engulfing us in a darkness that we won’t be able to see through, to shift.”  
“Mulder, The X-Files are your life. If you’re seeking the truth, you must expect the darkness. And I’ve seen you when you don’t have them. You did drift, you did seek isolation.”  
He choked out a small laugh. “You found me though, Scully. You came after me and you found me.”  
She took his hand. “Always.”  
A tear burned at the corner of his eye. “Are you lonely, Scully?”  
“Are you asking me if I miss the company of human beings? Because sometimes, when I look in the bull pen, I think the mutants are more fun.”  
He chuckled.   
“But if you’re asking if I feel lonely, like those women Incanto murdered; the answer is no. I don’t. My work with you is everything.”  
Removing his hand from hers, he let his head flop back against the couch. “Please don’t say that. It shouldn’t be.”  
“Why is it different for me, Mulder? Why should you be the only one consumed with the work?”  
“Because I brought you into this, Scully. If you’ve lost your way, if you’re not following the path you wanted, it’s because of me.”  
She chuffed. “Mulder, I choose my own path. And that path is by your side. On the X-Files. I’m here because I want to be. And if that means mutants over men, then so be it.”  
“God, Scully…”  
“Please don’t say ‘what did I do to deserve you’ because I’m not a prize, Mulder. And those women that Incanto killed, they were looking for some kind of fulfillment, something was missing in their lives.” She paused to look at him. “Believe me, my life is plenty full.”  
He rubbed his hands over his face then sat forward, elbows on knees. “I was going to say that I never meant to insinuate you needed love to be fulfilled.”  
She smiled. “Good. Because that wouldn’t be a very Mulder thing to say. You’ve always treated me as an equal. And that’s important in this world we’re in.”  
The lights of a car flashed briefly through the gap in the curtains. He finished his hot chocolate. She took his mug and washed them in the sink, the sleeves of her robe slipping past her elbows.   
“You can stay, if you want. It’s late,” she looked at her watch. “Or early.”  
“Will you tuck me in, too?”  
“That’s a very Mulder thing to say.” She gave him her reproachful look. This was the game they played, this banter. Flirting, teasing, back and forth. When they pushed too far emotionally this was where they came back to. He smiled down at her. She smiled back. “Come on, it’s nearly time to get up again.”  
“Will you still respect me in the morning, Scully?”  
“Only if you understand that loneliness can be a choice, Mulder.” She handed him a set of bedlinen and a pillow.

He pulled the crisp sheet under his chin. He watched the unfamiliar shadows play over the walls of her lounge. He breathed in the smell, listened to new sounds and wondered when he’d chosen loneliness.


End file.
